Through the Gate
by Captain Peregrine
Summary: Elizabeth and Rodney are finally on their way through the 'Gate.
1. Chapter 1

Elizabeth Weir knew she was going to have an interesting day as soon as Carson Beckett brushed passed her, uttering a brief, "Excuse me, Dr. Weir" before racing off to hide in his safe little infirmary. Rodney McKay started to storm after him but stopped when he noticed Elizabeth. He motioned angrily after the Scotsman and glared at her.

"He's not even trying!" he complained. Weir looked at him with her wide green eyes.

"But he's the one who discovered the gene this technology responds to." She said. "I've been trying to get him to sit in the chair for weeks."

"Yeah, well, he said he wished he never had it." McKay said, sounding disgusted that such an unwilling man should receive such a prestigious gift. Weir blinked in surprise.

"_Really_?" she asked, though it was difficult to tell if she was really that surprised or if she was just humoring the man. McKay seemed to go for the former, though he probably wouldn't have known if she had just been humoring him.

"I know, can you believe that?" McKay asked incredulously. Weir felt a smile twitch her lips and she couldn't help but tease her friend.

"We could always test you a third time, Rodney." She said, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. Rodney mocked silent laughter.

"That's very funny." He said, obviously not amused. Weir felt a fleeting sense of remorse for brining up the subject. Funny or not, Rodney had been crushed when he discovered that he, of all people, did not possess the gene. The first time he had refused to believe it and after a rather amusing verbal attack of the chair he had gone off to do a few more tests before trying again. The second time he had stomped off without a word to anyone, a look of utter defeat etched upon his face. No one had gone after him at first, knowing that catching McKay in one of his moods was like kicking an angry bear in the nose. But Weir went after him. She had learned, after nearly three months of living in a secluded Antarctic base with the man, that he often kept his temper in check with her. She didn't know why, but she figured it was a sort of mutual response to one another. For some reason they simply understood one another and so McKay had told her, rather sulkily, that he was damned displeased that _Beckett_ the voodoo doctor got the gene but not him, the one man who actually _needed_ to have it. After a while his displeasure had faded away, but Elizabeth knew that it still stung.

Trying to turn the subject away from Rodney and back onto the matter at hand, Elizabeth turned away from the man and stepped up onto the platform upon which the chair was perched.

"We've only found a handful of people who are genetically compatible with the Ancient technology and despite your _heroic_ efforts to interface ours with theirs," she saw McKay perk up a bit at the praise, "we need every one of them to sit in this chair—_including_ Doctor Beckett."

Rodney rolled his eyes and motioned at the piece of furniture.

"What am I supposed to do? He's _afraid_ of the thing." He said, making it sound as if Beckett were being a silly child for fearing a machine that had destroyed an entire alien armada. Weir smiled and stepped behind the chair, looking down at it as if _it_ was the sleeping bear.

"This chair controls the most powerful weapons known to humankind. I'm afraid of the thing." She said, laughing slightly. She saw McKay relax slightly—he always did when she laughed. In a way Elizabeth found it flattering.

"But every time someone sits in it," she continued, stepping back down to McKay's level, "we learn something new about the Ancients who built this outpost. Doctor Beckett should be _proud_ he's genetically advanced."

Weir winced inwardly as soon as the words left her mouth. She saw McKay's expression darken.

"It's not more advanced." He said shortly. "It—it's a _random_ characteristic."

"This really bothers you, this whole gene thing, huh?" Elizabeth asked softly. Rodney glared at her, but she could see the hurt in his eyes. Immediately it was replaced by his usual sarcasm.

"Oh, clearly I am overcome with envy." He snapped. Weir smiled and opened her mouth to speak, but she was interrupted as Daniel Jackson, the only member of SG-1 currently assigned to the Antarctic base, skidded around a corner. He looked up at them.

"Ah, just the people I needed to see." He said breathlessly, and immediately turned around and went back in the direction he had come. Elizabeth and Rodney looked at each other, sharing a glance that said _what the hell was that all about?_ As if he heard their unspoken question, Daniel reappeared again. The look on his face was a mix of irritation at having to come back and sheepishness for the very same reason. He cleared his throat and motioned for the two of them to follow.

"Come with me." He said belatedly before disappearing around the corner again. Shrugging, Rodney and Elizabeth followed. Daniel led them into a makeshift tent lab where there were a number of tables, computers and other equipment set up for taking readings and what not. As usual Elizabeth tended to ignore it—this was McKay's field and she didn't even pretend to understand what half of the blinking, beeping lights meant. Instead she turned her attention to the whiteboard that Daniel stepped in front of. Scribbled at the top of the board were six gate symbols, each labeled with a number, in chronological order, from one to six. The archeologist had begun talking before he had even stopped moving.

"We've gotten closer and closer to finding the location of the Lost City, but it turns out we've been looking in the wrong place all along." Daniel said before he had even reached the board. Stepping up to it now he picked up a stray marker. He continued on, speaking in what had become known around the base as Jackson's teaching mode. "Now, recently we determined a seventh symbol."

Weir nodded as Daniel drew the symbol for Earth at the end of the six-symbol sequence, forming a complete address.

"The point of origin," she said in understanding, "Earth."

Jackson smiled and looked as if he was about ready to launch into a lengthy explanation. Instead he cut himself off and simply used his pen to emphasize his next set of words.

"That's not it." He said, sounding almost proud of himself.

"Then your address must be incorrect." Rodney said, pointing out what he thought was obvious. But Daniel was becoming increasingly more and more excited.

"Not incorrect… _incomplete_." He corrected McKay. He turned back to the whiteboard and drew in an eighth symbol between the sixth and the seventh. He labeled it seven while over the Earth symbol he wrote an eight. A smile spread slowly over Weir's face.

"What are you saying, Doctor Jackson?" she asked slowly, as if unwilling to believe what she was hearing—and seeing.

"It's an eight symbol address." Daniel said, turning back to Elizabeth and Rodney. His blue eyes were wide with enthusiasm behind his wire-rimmed glasses. "What we've been looking for may be farther away than we ever imagined, but it's not out of reach."

"Atlantis!" Rodney breathed and Weir smiled when she heard the thrill creeping into the snarky Canadian's voice.

"Atlantis." Daniel agreed. "I think we can go there."

Elizabeth felt like jumping up and down. She felt like throwing her arms around Daniel's neck. She felt like screaming and laughing at the top of her lungs and leaping up onto the table and dancing around in circles. She felt like running out into the outpost shrieking, "Atlantis! Atlantis! We've found Atlantis!"

But seeing as each scenario was less professional than the last, Elizabeth had to settle for a broad smile. It made her feel better when she looked over at Rodney and saw a goofy grin stretching across his entire face. And it wasn't the normal, thin-lipped lopsided smile, either. This was a full-blown "I'm really, really happy" grin. And that only made Elizabeth's smile broaden.

"Are you… sure, Doctor Jackson?" Elizabeth asked slowly. Daniel's grin almost matched McKay's.

"I'm sure. _We're_ sure." Daniel said, as always referring to a team instead of just himself.

"Oh, God." McKay said suddenly, looking as if he had just been punched in the face. Elizabeth looked at him in alarm.

"Rodney?" she asked worriedly. McKay looked at her with a look of fierce determination.

"If we're going to Atlantis," he said, "then I've got to get Beckett to sit in that chair."

Immediately he whirled around and hurried out of the tent. Elizabeth sighed and smiled briefly at Daniel.

"Thank you, Daniel." She breathed. He grinned and nodded after her as she turned and ran out after Rodney.

Weir had to keep herself from shouting after McKay, but she did allow herself a brisk walk as she trotted after him. She finally caught up with him and grabbed his arm, hauling him to a stop. He whirled around to face her and they found themselves nearly nose to nose. McKay didn't seem to notice.

"Elizabeth, we need him to sit in that damn chair!" he shouted and Elizabeth flinched backwards in surprise. McKay sighed and visibly tried to reign himself in. He clenched his fists and huffed in frustration. "Look, he's the only one we have who hasn't sat in that stupid chair and if we are… are going off to some lost city then we damn well need to know _now_ if he's going to be of any use at all."

"Rodney, I agree that we need him to sit in the chair. But we can't _force_ him."

McKay grinned and started to back away. He waggled a finger at her.

"Oh, yes I can." He said and turned away. Elizabeth sighed heavily and realized that no matter what she did she wasn't going to be able to save Carson now.

"Look, we've been through this. I'm not your man!" Beckett shouted as Rodney herded him towards the chair.

"Keep moving." The scientist snapped irritably.

"I'm a doctor—a medical doctor." Beckett said, almost begging for Rodney to understand his fear of the chair. Rodney refused.

"There is nothing to be afraid of." He said, weary of the grown man's childish whining. Little did he know that he often came across as much the same.

"You don't understand." Beckett cried as Rodney pushed him into the chair room. "I break things like this."

"This device has survived for millions of years intact, it will survive you." McKay said and he shoved Beckett onto the platform. "Not sit down, close your eyes and concentrate."

Beckett sighed in irritation and sat down heavily in the chair. He slapped his hands onto the jelly-like pads and closed his eyes. A heartbeat later he snapped them open.

"Again nothing." He said and started to rise. McKay shoved him back into the chair.

"This time," McKay said in seemingly complete ignorance of Beckett's attempted flight, "just try to imagine an image of where we are in the solar system."

"Ach." Beckett huffed and he closed his eyes. He remained still for several seconds before speaking again. "I think I feel something."

McKay looked up from his Powerbook, a look of surprise and happiness flashing across his ocean-blue eyes. A moment later it disappeared when Beckett told him that it was probably lunch related.

"Shut up." McKay snapped. "And _concentrate_."

Beckett glared at him with a look that said, _when I get out of this chair I am going to use your guts for my sewing thread and stitch shut the wounds I will pummel into your head._ McKay ignored him, as usual, and Beckett sighed heavily. He closed his eyes and a moment later the chair suddenly glowed into life, reclining beneath a shocked and terrified Scottish doctor. McKay looked at the chair in amazement, but a moment later the mood was crushed when he heard a strange whirring sound coming from the outlying room. Looking out toward where Peter Grodin had been studying a recently discovered abandoned drone, he saw the weapon spring to life, soaring off the table and crashing into a variety of expensive equipment before shooting up the elevator shaft. Even from where he was he could hear Elizabeth shouting to be brought back down to the bottom level immediately.

"What did I do?" Beckett groaned, his blue eyes wide in alarm.

Moments later Elizabeth rushed into the room, Daniel close behind her. She looked at Beckett, who stared at her with his deer-caught-in-the-headlights look.

"I told you I was th' wrong person!" he cried. Elizabeth looked at McKay and he glared back, unwilling to admit that forcing the man into the chair may not have been such a good idea. Instead he turned his attentions to a computer panel set up near the chair where he could monitor the power of the chair and, evidently, the rogue drone as well.

"It doesn't matter now." He said, speaking to Elizabeth as much as to Carson. "Just _do_ something!"

"Like what?" Carson hollered in alarm. Elizabeth stepped up to the chair and leaned over to face him. She spoke to him a soothing voice, knowing that the doctor would not respond well to Rodney's shouting.

"Carson, concentrate on shutting that weapon down before it hurts someone." Elizabeth said softly. Beckett looked at her, then squeezed his eyes shut. He sat like that for many long minutes and they could see his eyes moving rapidly beneath his lids as if he were dreaming. He was rigid in the chair and his breathing was rapid and shallow. Daniel, Rodney and Elizabeth stood silently watching him with pent up breath, unwilling to speak for fear that they would break the doctor's concentration.

Elizabeth jumped in surprise when Beckett's eyes suddenly snapped open again.

"I think I did it!" he gasped in amazement. Not long after the words left his mouth Lieutenant Aidan Ford hurried up to Elizabeth.

"Major Sheppard is reporting the drone appears to have been incapacitated." Elizabeth almost laughed in relief and she saw McKay slump against the computer consol with the same emotion. Behind her Daniel sighed heavily. Aidan continued calmly, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. "General O'Neill's helicopter is unharmed and on its way again… Seven minutes out."

"Thank God." Elizabeth sighed, casting a glare in McKay's direction. He avoided eye contact.

"Holy Crap." Beckett groaned. A moment later he was on his feet and off the platform. He stepped up to Rodney and glared down at him.

"Never again!" he shouted and stomped away. McKay glanced at Elizabeth and he felt heat rushing into his face.

"Right." He sighed nonchalantly. "Not too bad, huh?"


	2. Chapter 2

Despite the trouble that they had first had with the Ancient technology and despite General O'Neill's hesitation the expedition was a go. Rodney McKay wasn't exactly sure how he felt about it. When he had heard Elizabeth say that all of her team were willing to risk not returning home in the hopes of finding Atlantis intact and possibly populated, Rodney wondered if that was true. Hell, he had certainly had his doubts. Did he really want to abandon everything he had in order to fling himself halfway across the known universe on one crackpot hope that something good would come of it?

But every time his thoughts strayed down the do-I-really-want-this path two things occurred to him. First: the only thing he was leaving behind on Earth was his cat and his neighbor was more than willing to take care of Einstein while he was away. Hell, if he ever came back she would probably flatly refuse to give him back and Rodney would have to resort to some sort of door kicking to retrieve him.

The second thing that Rodney realized was that he was not going to let Elizabeth Weir take such a dangerous gamble on her own. In the past few months she had become the closest friend he had ever had. He had come to trust her and to respect her and had even come to cherish the moments he had to speak with her alone. He felt complete when she was around, as if he no longer had to hide behind a brick wall because he knew she would be there helping him to take the weight of the world. He didn't know why he reacted to her in such a way, nor why she cared enough to… _care_. All he knew was that he wasn't going to give that up, Einstein or no. He loved his cat—hell, he would miss him like a limb—but he was beginning to feel the faint stirrings of new feelings for this smiling, red-haired woman and he knew that no matter what happened, hell or high water, he wasn't going to abandon her now. Einstein would understand.

As it turned out Rodney wasn't going to get much time to miss his cat. As soon as the expedition had been given the much anticipated go ahead things had started to move in fast pace. Those few people who hadn't been living at the base and who were planning to leave for the distant Pegasus galaxy were asked to tie up loose ends, close up their houses and come to Antarctica where they would simply live in temporary quarters until their three-second journey across the universe. While Rodney had been spending most of his time in the frigid wasteland of the southern most portion of the world he had still been half-living at his apartment. But he quickly flew north—far, far north—to Canada where he quickly packed up the few extra things he was going to need and prepared to hand his cat over to the neighbor.

Rodney decided to spend the night at his apartment, soaking in the feel of it for one last time because he could only hope that he would come back at all. Plus he wanted some time to spend with little Einstein. Whether or not the cat would even realize Rodney was gone, Rodney was certainly going to miss him. Not that he would tell anyone that. He could only imagine what people would say if they found out that their Chief of Science had hesitated before deciding to leave for Atlantis only because he had been unwilling to part with his _cat_.

Of course to him it made sense that he should miss a small, four-legged pet instead of a human being. People were a breed of animal that Rodney had never quite figured out. All his life he had been surrounded by people that he couldn't comprehend and knowledge and understanding of the world were things that he had surrounded himself in early on in order to escape his reality.

His parents had been screwed up people—his father had been an abusive alcoholic; his mother had been a spineless 'fifties homemaker and his sister…well, in a way, his sister was the greatest conundrum. She had been a brilliant girl and an insanely intelligent woman. Rodney never doubted that had she wanted to Jeanie could have easily surpassed him in knowledge and skill. But she had never given herself the chance. Instead she had gotten herself pregnant and instead of giving up the child for her mind, she had given up her mind for the child. She had married the father and had supposedly lived happily ever after after that. As far as Rodney knew she was still happy and still freakishly smart, but was living out her life in some ordinary suburb instead of doing what _he_ was doing—changing the world, exploring the universe, and expanding his knowledge to a level that he had only dreamed of. She had given it all up for a child and a husband. She had given it all up for… _normal_. There was nothing special about children, as far as Rodney knew. But there was something special about intelligence and he couldn't understand how she could have given it all up. He suspected that was half the reason he disliked kids—they were the destruction of every intelligent man and woman in the world who had succumbed to the seduction of nature's biological urging to mate and breed.

Rodney had been so upset and hurt by his little sister's decision that he had flatly refused to be part of her life any longer. He told her that so long as he had a part to play in the advancements of humanity he would not waste his time babysitting some snot-nosed kid and joining in on stupid Saturday night barbecue dinners. _He_ would not let his life become ordinary. _He_ was going to be extraordinary. And he was not going to be dragged down by someone who couldn't see the reasoning in that.

The last time Rodney had spoken to Jeanie was well over ten years ago. He couldn't even remember if he had a nephew or a niece. He never even considered contacting her to let her know that he was leaving. She would never know that he was gone, just as she would never know everything that she had missed out on in the passed ten years because she had been playing wife and mother.

Rodney, lying sprawled out on the couch, rested his head on his arm. Beside him, curled up against his warm chest, Einstein slept peacefully in a tight little ball. Rodney's free hand absently stroked the cat's soft fur, finding comfort in the rhythmic movement and the slight vibrations of the cat's purrs. For a little while he was able to let his mind drift. He didn't want to think of his sister or his parents or his life—the life that had forced him to erect that damnable protective wall in the first place. He wanted to think of something else—or nothing at all, but the latter seemed nearly impossible. Rodney McKay was always thinking about something.

And suddenly he was thinking of Elizabeth.

The vision of her smiling face framed by its curly red hair and her bright green eyes caused his chest to constrict. Immediately Rodney frowned and the vision disappeared.

"What the hell was that?" he asked aloud, though no one responded. Realizing that he must be tired beyond belief if he was thinking about his boss and best friend _now_, Rodney picked up his sleeping cat and got off the couch. He headed into his bedroom where he quickly stripped down to a pair of boxers and a loose t-shirt. He sprawled out beneath his sheets and Einstein, awoken by the sudden move, made himself comfortable on Rodney's pillow. For the most part Rodney lay in a dreamless sleep, though he did see the face of a smiling green-eyed woman with red hair.

Rodney left Einstein with his neighbor a little after noon. Feeling the pang of loss for the animal already, Rodney forced himself to give the cat one last affectionate stroke before he gathered his things and left. He didn't look back, knowing that his chances of coming back were slim at best.


	3. Chapter 3

She couldn't have realized it at the time, but Elizabeth Weir was having the same last-minute doubts as Rodney McKay. But for her it wasn't simply because she was leaving behind a four-legged pet. Yes, she would miss her snow-white Sedge, but she had a feeling that she would be missing Simon just as much—probably more. That was exactly the reason why she couldn't face him, why she couldn't tell him where she was going to his face. She knew what she would see: hurt, loss, perhaps even betrayal at leaving left behind. He usually took it so well but this… this would be so much different.

Elizabeth had not been home in many months. She had seen Simon only a handful of times in the entire time she had been living on base and those times were usually stolen moments when she went back to the United States to meet with General O'Neill or any of the other officials she had to speak with in order to keep things running smoothly in Antarctica. But she had seen less and less of him in the past few months and she knew that if she saw him now only to say good-bye—perhaps forever—she knew neither of them would be able to stand it. Whatever they had left was fragile at best and she knew it would shatter and disappear if she went to him now, leaving Elizabeth adrift and alone in a strange place with nothing to come back to and that was _not_ how she wanted to start what could possibly be her new life.

But, more importantly, if she saw him one last time she would be tempted to forget it all. She would want to stay and abandon everything she had worked so hard for. She didn't want to have to listen to the don't goes and the please stays. She didn't want to see him when he told her to "choose what felt right" because no matter what she did she would be turning her back on someone. If she chose to go, she would be hurting him. If she stayed she would be hurting her team—and herself. She would be hurting her friends—would hurt Rodney.

And so she left him a message. She hated herself for doing it, knowing that he would hate her for doing it. But Simon would understand and some part of him would be grateful.

"I want to do this, Simon, with all my heart." Elizabeth told him, staring into a camera instead of into his face. "You know me well enough to know I could never turn down an opportunity like this. But I wanted to tell you…"

Elizabeth paused and she felt her stomach twist.

She wasn't telling _him_ anything. She was telling a lifeless piece of machinery what she wanted him to hear. She was hiding behind a cold hunk of plastic and computer chips because she was afraid that, in the end, she would be too weak to leave. And she didn't want to be weak. She wanted—she _needed_—to be strong.

Elizabeth swallowed and spoke through the tears threatening to spill over. She wished her voice would stop shaking.

"I wanted you to know, Simon, that I love you and that I will miss you. I won't say I wish I didn't have to do this because that would be a lie. I won't say I wish I could stay, because you know me better than that, too. But what I will say, Simon, is that I will be made stronger because I know what I am leaving behind. I will come home… I just don't know when. Forgive me for not telling you this to your face but… I know you will understand."

Elizabeth got to her feet and quickly shut off the camera. She felt like a traitor for ending her message of farewell so poorly, but she didn't want him to see her crying. He would worry about her if he knew she was crying and she didn't want him to worry.

Sighing, Elizabeth popped out the tape and stuffed it into the little envelope already labeled. Someone would see that it was delivered—but not until it was too late to turn back and rethink what she was doing. He would get her message, but it would be after she was long out of his reach.

Elizabeth ended up reaching Cheyenne Mountain at the same time as Rodney, meeting him just as he was stepping into the elevator that would bring them down to the lowest levels of the base. He held the door for him and she smiled her thanks. He grunted and threw her a small smile.

"Going down?" he asked. Elizabeth smiled and nodded. "What a coincidence. Me, too."

Elizabeth laughed.

"It's good to know that you haven't lost your sense of humor, Rodney." She said. Rodney looked at her and offered her one of his lopsided smiles—a smile that she was becoming quite fond of.

"You're probably the only one who thinks so." He pointed out. Elizabeth smiled and stared straight ahead at the closed doors.

"Probably." She grinned and she saw him scowl at her in the reflection on the doors. She looked at him and soothed his hurt feelings with an apologetic smile.

"I was only joking, Rodney."

Rodney grunted again and crossed his arms. He leaned against the elevator wall and closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to see the numbers sliding slowly by. Elizabeth decided to distract him, knowing that he would end up focusing on his claustrophobia if he had the chance.

"Where are all your things?" she asked absently. Rodney didn't open his eyes.

"Already packed and waiting." He said. "I noticed you didn't have anything."

"Packed and waiting." She smiled. She paused and turned to look at him, though she knew he couldn't see her.

"What do you think we are doing, Rodney?" she asked. She saw a thin-lipped smile twitch at the corners of his mouth.

"As far as I can tell we are preparing to go gallivanting across the known universe." He said dryly. Elizabeth nodded and clasped her hands in front of her, letting her gaze fall to her feet. She hadn't voiced her concerns to anyone and she wondered if doing so now was the wisest choice. But she had to say them—she had to get them out into the open or they would gnaw a hole in her gut.

"But… what do you think about it, Rodney? Are we doing the right thing? Am I doing the right thing?"

"How do you mean?" she heard him ask.

"I mean… I'm pulling all of these people away from their families, asking them to drop everything so that _I_ can go see what's on the other side. Is this just a fool's errand? What if we don't find anything? What if it turns out I'm making a huge mistake and making everyone pay for it? What if—"

"What ifs are for people who have no imagination." Rodney said shortly and Elizabeth looked up in surprise. He was staring at her with a look akin to anger smoldering in his blue eyes. "Look, what we are doing may be stupid, but it's what we need to do. Without us, who else would do it? And without _you_ no one would want to. I wouldn't have come on this expedition if I didn't think there was something in it. I'm not one who likes to put himself in harm's way, but I trust you enough to do it. I know that you aren't going to be knowingly pushing us into the middle of… of a war zone or something, but if it happens then it happens.

And you aren't dragging people away from their families. They know what they're getting themselves into and if they didn't want to take the risk they would stay at home watching hockey and getting fat. People aren't going because you are making them—people are going because they want to follow you, because they trust you. They _want_ to go—we're probably all idiots for wanting to go, but there you are. But if you start second guessing yourself now… um…well, just don't."

Elizabeth blinked in surprise and Rodney blushed. His spark of momentary reassurance seemed to have died and he looked away from her in embarrassment. He crossed his arms and cleared his throat, his blue eyes flicking up to see how many floors they had left. He breathed a sigh when he saw that they were just about mid-way down. They would stop halfway through and get into a second elevator that would bring them the rest of the way.

Elizabeth couldn't think of anything to say while they descended and she still couldn't think of anything when they got out of the first elevator. But when she stepped into the second and the door closed, Elizabeth smiled.

"Thank you, Rodney." She murmured. _That was just what I needed_.


	4. Chapter 4

It was amazing. It was beyond anything she could have imagined in her wildest dreams. Standing on the balcony of the lost city of Atlantis, looking out over a wide, calm ocean with a clean breeze ruffling her hair.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting the crisp ocean air fill her lungs. It seemed to have been forever since she had last been to the ocean, and now here she was, millions of light-years from home, on the open sea once again. She hadn't realized how much she had missed it until now.

Of course, she was happy merely to be seeing the open sky. She hadn't admitted it to anyone—except to Rodney—but she had been sorely unhappy with the prospect of spending God only knew how long underwater. She loved water, but she loved the sky more and she didn't want to even imagine having to spend days, weeks, months or years trapped so far from the sunlight. So far from the moon and the stars and the wind. The thought of it made her shudder even now and she wrapped her arms around herself to dispel the disquieting feeling that had settled upon her.

"If you're cold the smart thing would be to come inside."

Elizabeth jumped slightly and looked over her shoulder. She hadn't even heard the door slide open, let alone hear Rodney step out onto the balcony. He was holding two mugs in his hand—and they were steaming. Elizabeth could have kissed him, but she should have known he'd be the one to remember to bring the coffee. She murmured a thank you when he handed a cup to her and she closed her eyes, savoring the slightly too-strong drink. Definitely a McKay brew.

"There's a party going on, you know." Rodney pointed out. Elizabeth opened her eyes and raised an eyebrow. Rodney sighed and shrugged, joining her at the railing. "Yeah, not a big party person myself."

"It's not that." Elizabeth smiled, turning to face the water again. "It's just… this is just so amazing it's hard to take it in all at once. It's even harder when you're trying to meet and greet an alien race of humans."

Rodney grunted and sipped his coffee.

"Good food, though."

Elizabeth laughed and nodded her head in agreement. A moment of silence stretched between them and Weir instantly knew there was something on her chief scientist's mind—he was never so quiet unless he was thinking of something important or uncomfortable. She didn't even need to look at him to know that he was doing his best not to look at her—another sure sign that he was trying to say something he didn't want to.

"Just spit it out, McKay." She sighed. At least Rodney had the decency not to look surprised anymore when she read his mind. She was beginning to think that he rather appreciated it—a sort of a load off his shoulders.

Rodney was silent a moment longer, and when he finally spoke he still refused to look at her.

"You weren't going to leave, were you?"

Elizabeth looked up in surprise. Rodney was staring intently down at the water crashing onto the distant piers, an unreadable expression on his face, his cooling coffee forgotten between his hands.

"What do you—"

"When the shield was failing and I told you we needed to evacuate… you weren't going to do it, were you?"

The man sounded almost hurt by the words he said and Elizabeth felt a twinge of guilt. He was hitting rather close to the mark—she would have been unwilling to leave. In the end he probably would have forced her to go, but not without a fight on her end.

Elizabeth shook her head, not to deny anything but to try and clear her thoughts.

"Rodney, I—"

"Look," Rodney interrupted, straightening and turning to face her, "I didn't want to leave it any more than you did—I still don't. But I didn't follow you half-way across the known universe just so you could get yourself killed."

Elizabeth blinked in surprise. She was startled by the look in his ocean-blue eyes and realized in that moment, in those words, that she had a better friend standing before her now than any she had ever had in her entire life. Here was a man willing to throw himself across the known universe to keep her safe and sane, to keep her company and to stand by her side. She didn't know how to respond, but she felt a deep contentment looking at him in that instant and knew that she would never regret or begrudge this friendship—no matter what happened in the coming months.

"You followed me?" she asked softly, not knowing what else to say. Rodney suddenly flushed and he looked away, mumbling intangibly to himself. He glanced over at her and he flashed her one of his lopsided smiles.

"Couldn't let you do it alone." He said lamely at last. Elizabeth smiled and stepped up to him and threw an arm across his shoulders. She touched her forehead to his and laughed gently.

"I'm glad you did, Dr. McKay." She grinned. "This party just wouldn't be the same without you."

"Never is." Rodney grinned back, straightening again as Elizabeth pulled away. She turned to go back inside when Rodney's quiet voice called her back once again.

"Just… please, Elizabeth, do me one favor." He said quietly. Weir turned to face him and she stood silent, though she suspected she knew what he was going to say. "If I ask you to go…just go."

She stood quiet for several moments, watching him silently in the moonlight. He stared back at her, his blue eyes holding the same look they had when he had been trying to convince her to leave with the sea threatening to crash in around them.

Then she nodded, just barely.

"I will." She whispered. McKay smiled slightly and nodded.

"Good to know." He said, and turned back to the sea. Weir sighed and shook her head, smiling to herself as she stepped back inside.

Yes, she was certainly glad she had a friend like Rodney McKay.


End file.
